


Like a Sledgehammer

by Slanguage



Series: Prompts [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Best Friend's Brother AU, Cute, First Meetings, M/M, Shipper!Sam, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-19
Updated: 2015-04-19
Packaged: 2018-03-24 16:35:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3775717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slanguage/pseuds/Slanguage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel met Sam Winchester in their first day of orientation at Stanford when the other man had tripped and taken Castiel with him, marking the beginning of a four-year-and-counting best friendship. Castiel’s meeting with Dean Winchester was less of a physical fall and a lot more of a figurative one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like a Sledgehammer

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt from [here](http://shortenedlanguage.tumblr.com/post/116747563108/send-me-a-ship-and-a-number-and-ill-write-a-short)
> 
> (#21 Best Friend's Brother AU)

Castiel met Sam Winchester in their first day of orientation at Stanford when the other man had tripped and taken Castiel with him, marking the beginning of a four-year-and-counting best friendship. Castiel’s meeting with Dean Winchester was less of a physical fall and a lot more of a figurative one.

“You’ll like him, Cas, I swear,” Sam continued to reassure Castiel on their way to the bar where they would be meeting Sam’s brother, who had come to visit California for the first time. Their graduation was fast approaching, less than a week away. Sam was set to begin at Stanford’s law school in the fall, and Castiel was entering into their aeronautics grad school program. Castiel within weeks was going to be living (albeit a little reluctantly) with Sam and his girlfriend Jess, and they were going to continue their foray into adulthood. But Sam, usually accepting of Castiel hermit-like lifestyle, was not hearing any of his excuses tonight.

Sam had said nothing but good and fond things about his older brother, who had practically raised him through their parent’s messy divorce and their father’s alcoholic end not too long after. Castiel could go as far as to admit that some of the stories he had heard about this unknown Dean Winchester had even made Castiel admire him.

But that didn’t mean Castiel was willing to emerge into civilization and make casual conversation with real living people in a social setting. A part of him would rather be sitting in his dorm room and taking advantage of the silence, his roommate not sticking around to walk at graduation, sketching ideas for airplanes and helicopters and (yeah, okay) a design for a set of human wings that he was trying to figure out the math for. The other part, admitted, was intrigued.

That was the part that had gotten him to put on a clean pressed button-up, slacks, and even a tie, and had forced him to march outside of his residence hall when Sam had called him to announce he was outside.

Sam had chosen a bar about ten minutes from campus, closer to his apartment he currently shared with Jess, and hadn’t paused in singing his brother’s praises once during the entire ride.

“He can be a bit of an ass,” Sam was saying, his nervousness manifesting in talking much more than necessary, “but that’s usually only to me, since I’m his little brother and all. And he has a weird sense of humor and makes a lot of pop culture references and—”

“Sam,” Castiel finally interrupted as they were waiting at the light to turn into the parking lot of the sports bar, turning to face Sam in his seat with his eyebrows raised. “I’m sure it will be fine. You don’t need to justify anything he does or says. I’m not the one you’re about to marry; your family does not need to impress me.”

Sam groaned as he pulled into a parking spot, throwing the car into park with a grimace. “Oh, god, I haven’t even told him about that yet. Exnay on that, alright?”

Castiel nodded. He looked toward the establishment. “Is he here?”

“That’s his car,” Sam confirmed, pointing toward a sleek but large black car in the far corner of the lot, far away from any cars that might scratch it. “That’s the Impala. I’ve mentioned it.”

“Right,” Castiel agreed, remembering tales of the car that Sam always spoke of like a second home. “Ready to go in?”

Sam let out an audible gulp before they both moved simultaneously to get out of the car, walking in step to the front doors of the bar and restaurant. Sam shot Castiel an encouraging grin, like Sam _wasn’t_ the one about to have a nervous breakdown, and threw the doors open.

It took less than two seconds before a voice from the bar cried over the loud chatter of the other restaurant patrons, “Sammy!”

Sam and Castiel both turned to spy the man standing up from the bar, leaving his empty glass there. Sam immediately burst into a wide grin and shouldered past the small clusters of people to get to his brother, the two of them throwing their arms around each other as if they hadn’t seen each other in fifteen years rather than about fifteen hours. Castiel bemusedly wandered over, smiling in apology to the people Sam had practically mowed down. The brothers were already chatting excitedly about Sam’s last day of finals (earlier today, the lucky bastard) when Castiel materialized at their side, getting a better look at Sam’s brother.

Castiel looked at Dean, and blinked slowly.

Oh god. He’s gorgeous.

Dean Winchester was a couple of inches shorter than Sam, closer to Castiel’s height. He had brown hair that stood up in spikes and freckles lightly dusting his cheekbones. His smile was like the sun bearing down on a desert, bright and beautifully stunning, and his eyes were bright green.

He was beautiful. Castiel was suddenly having a hard time swallowing.

Sam turned to his left as if sensing Castiel had finally joined them and grinning to find Castiel standing there. He clapped his hand on Castiel’s shoulder so hard it might have sent him to his knees if he wasn’t already well aware to brace for the blow, and the move directed Dean’s attention. Sam’s brother immediately glanced over, meeting Castiel’s eyes. His eyebrows went up just slightly, and his mouth turned into something more like a grin, his eyes flickering up and down Castiel’s body quick before darting back to his eyes.

Castiel barely had a moment to think, _holy shit he just checked me out_ , before Sam, the greatest third wheel Castiel had ever met, happily announced, “Dean, this is Cas. Cas, meet my annoying older brother.”

“Nice to meet you,” Dean immediately said, his voice like a purr, holding his hand out for Castiel to shake. Castiel prayed for the first time since he was a child for his palm not to be sweaty as he took it, Dean’s fingers warm. They broke their grip and Dean sent him a wink that was not subtle in the slightest. Castiel blinked back, flabbergasted, as Sam sighed heavily at his side.

“You couldn’t wait five minutes?” Sam demanded, not sounding truly mad or annoyed at least. Dean completely ignored him, not taking his eyes or his grin off of Castiel.

“Want a drink?” he asked, raising his eyebrows and tipping his head toward the bar. Castiel tried so, _so_ hard not to look at his throat. Castiel suddenly seemed to realize that Dean had asked a question, and he nodded.

“Whiskey?” Castiel said, but it ended up as a question. Dean’s grin widened.

“Excellent choice,” he complimented before turning raised eyebrows on Sam, who was staring at him with narrowed eyes. “And you, Sasquatch?”

“Vodka and ginger,” Sam said, his brow furrowed as he stared at Dean, like he was trying to figure out if his brother had a high fever or something. He glanced to Castiel. “We’ll get a table.”

Dean inclined his head in acknowledgment and left Castiel behind with another wink before turning back to the bar, leaning against the wood on his tanned forearms, leaving a spectacular view of his back and his shoulders and—

“Oh my god,” Sam stated plainly.

Castiel turned to look at him, almost having forgotten he was there, and he almost opened his mouth to apologize for staring at Sam’s brother’s ass before he discovered that Sam wasn’t mad, or annoyed, or had even noticed—he was shaking with laughter, clutching at his sides.

“Oh my god,” Sam said again, smirking at Castiel. “You have a thing for him! And Dean’s as unsubtle as a brick to the face, so there’s no mystery there. I halfway expected this to happen but _wow_ is it something to see firsthand.”

Castiel turned bright red. Sam nudged him, still smirking, before grabbing his arm and leading him to the hostess stand, seeming to recognize that meeting Dean Winchester had been enough to shut down Castiel’s brain to anything that wasn’t freckled smiles and green eyes that lit up like fireworks. Sam requested a table and the hostess picked up menus, and Sam slid into one side of the booth. Castiel went to join him on his side but Sam shook his head, gesturing to the other side.

“No way,” he asserted. “I am not going to get accidentally subjected to footsie. That’s where I draw the line.”

Castiel sunk into the booth but made sure by his scowl that Sam knew he wasn’t happy (or was at least _very_ embarrassed) about it. Sam, since he’s Castiel’s best friend, just smirked at him cheekily.

“If this is making you uncomfortable, then I can just tell him—” Castiel began to say to Sam, who cut him off with mad gestures and a firmly shaken head. His eyes darted in the direction of the bar before he leaned closer to speak conspiratorially.

“Cas, this is the happiest I’ve seen my brother in a while,” Sam confessed, giving him a serious look. “I’m not going to be the one to rain on his parade. If he makes you uncomfortable, then say something because he’ll back off immediately, but if not . . .” Sam shrugged. “I’m not bothered. I oddly think you two would work.”

Castiel stayed thoughtfully silent until Dean wandered back to the table, all loose jeans and plaid shirt and smiles, placing the drinks accordingly on the table and pausing before sliding in next to Castiel. Castiel flushed at the warm line of Dean’s body to his left, their shoulders brushing in the small booth, and Sam sent Castiel a knowing smirk.

“So, Cas,” Dean began, turning to him with a charmingly shy smile. “What’s your major?”

Cas smiled just as shyly, feeling a warming in his stomach at the thought of something new, and he broke into an explanation of aeronautics and what he wanted to do after school, Dean paying attention to every word he was saying and asking questions every once in a while when they struck him as Castiel told him about how much he had always loved flying, keeping to himself the thought that he enjoyed this feeling of falling just as much, his heart warming more and more for each one of Dean’s smiles and his lingering touches and the way his eyes were bright and attentive every time Castiel spoke, hanging onto every word. Dean flirted shamelessly and kept making excuses to touch, and they walked away from each other that night with each other’s numbers and Castiel having pressed a kiss to Dean’s cheek.

And damned if Castiel didn’t love him from the very first day.

He would tell Dean that much, a year and a half later, after Dean had made the big move to Palo Alto and had moved into Castiel’s room in Sam, Jess, and Castiel’s apartment. He would tell Dean about the first time they met, curled up on Castiel’s bed with all of Dean’s boxes still laying around, the two of them wrapped up in each other and murmuring about how everything has gone right. He would tell Dean about how he at once made him feel like he was flying and falling, soaring higher than he ever had and tripping head over heels at the same time, and Dean would murmur about how he was hooked from Castiel’s eyes and his shy smiles, and how every time Castiel would look at him he would feel like he was the most important person in the world, and they would lay there for hours until Sam inevitably barged in without knocking, always with a question that absolutely could have waited until they were dressed.

Castiel didn’t regret falling for Dean Winchester for a moment, and he knew that he never would.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, and thanks to my lovely anon that suggested the prompt! I hope you liked it!
> 
> My Tumblr: shortenedlanguage.tumblr.com
> 
> x Kay


End file.
